Here are a couple of fantastic singles by the Bard of Salford, Greater Manchester's punk-poet himself, John Cooper Clarke. He's probably best known (if he's known at all) for his a capella rapid-spat poems, but on these records he's backed by a group which called themselves the Invisible Girls. Clarke's lyrics are great as one might expect, and the backing band doesn't sound tacked on, instead straddling the border between krautrock-influenced post-punk and good old '77 rabble, managing to find themselves in disco territory without sucking, on the second record's A-side.
In the 1980s Clarke spent a lot of time being addicted to heroin with the famous Nico, so maybe that will pique your interest. He's also in the 1982 film Urgh! A Music War, which is worth finding for his performance as well as those of the rest of the underground bands in it.
Mr. Clarke performs to this day, so you should go see him if you get the chance.
I'm a big fan of the blog Mutant Sounds, so it was pretty cool to read this article in the Wire written by one of their contributors. Good stuff about the value of sharing music via this vast series of tubes.
Speaking of music in tubes, check out this psych duo jamming in the Chicago subway:
You're cool, right? You like the Fall, right? Joy Division? Here's a 1978 10" comp of Manchester bands, including some of the first recordings by the aforementioned two bands (when Joy Division was called Warsaw) and more. My favorites on this are probably the spoken-word raps of John Cooper Clarke [I'll probably post some more of him later], or the black-up jam "Macka Splaff" by reggae punks Steel Pulse. Oh, there's also a Buzzcocks song, and although I'm less interested in them, it's a good song. This short album plays through really well.
The consummate loner punk J.T. IV [John
Timmis IV] lived in and around the fringes of Chicago, and made some
fantastically damaged glam-folk-punk tunes, first releasing the
"Waiting for the CTA"7" in 1980. It's a localized
version of the Velvets song, sung over Blitzkrieg Bop chords. The
song starts out pretty cheesy-sounding but devolves into a noisy mess
foretelling the rest of this compilation of super-rare singles (with originals going for over $800). My favorite thing on here is the two-song folk lament suite "In
the Can / Out of the Can," which communicates alienation and pathos
as can only be done by a dude who's been institutionalized. On the rest of the songs there's all sorts of what Timmis called 'destructo rock,' an umbrella under which the MC5 and the Dead Boys would probably fit. All of
this stuff languished in obscurity for the whole of Timmis's
life (he died in 2002 in Nowhere, PA), but was released by Drag City
in 2008. It's out of print now, but when it was available it came
with a full-length DVD containing performances and home-movies (trailer below). More
of his stuff remains unreleased and nearly impossible to find, but I
hope it gets reissued like this album. If you can track that DVD
down, let me know.
I don't really know how much I can say about this album that hasn't already been said (which itself is a pretty cliche thing to say about an album, I guess). If you like Can you already have this. Tago Mago is the first in the 'holy trinity' of Can musics featuring Damo Suzuki on vocals, the others being Ege Bamyasi (1972) and Future Days (1973). It was my introduction to Can and remains my favorite. And it blows my mind that this is 40 years old.
First is 'Paperhouse,' which might deserve the descriptor "perfect slow-burn" more so than any other song I've ever heard. It is really one of the best opening tracks on any album, ever. 'Mushroom' is post-punk circa 1971, and 'Oh Yeah' (see below) is zen in the beauty of its aural production, gliding over a motorik rhythm borrowed from Neu! 'Halleluwah' takes up the whole of side two -- in the hands (and feet) of a lesser drummer than Jaki Liebezeit, such an attempt might fall on its face. But instead, Liebezeit rides a tremendous, primal funk groove that rewards repeated listens. The rest of the band is improvising for pretty much the whole piece, but thanks to the discriminating x-acto knife of bassist/tape editor Holger Czukay, none of the time is wasted and the whole 18 minutes is full of musically potent jamming.
Then you put on the second slab. Side three is the drifting, 17-minute opus 'Augm,' and here things start to get really weird. If the first disc was smoking weed, the second is mescaline, or something. But even 'Augm' might not be able to prepare you, young psychonaut, for what awaits on side four. 'Peking O' develops into the most intense, freaked-out part of the whole album over its 11 minutes, with panic-attack beats and keyboards, glossolaliac vocalizations by Damo, and a noise section near the end that you should really hear instead of just hear about. The result is an intense catharsis, finally releasing the listener to enjoy the last seven minutes of the trip with 'Bring me Coffee or Tea.' It's the perfect comedown from the psychedelic heights reached on sides three and four.
The song 'Oh Yeah' includes Damo Suzuki briefly singing in Japanese, for which not a single translation exists on the whole internet. Or at least, I haven't been able to find it. So I figured I'd give it a try. I have no idea if it is correct (Japanese has an incredible number of homophones). If anyone with greater Japanese proficiency than me can correct this, by all means do so, but here's what I heard:
これで底意素ばてる [kore de sokoi su bateru]
Tired of this obvious conspiracy
頭のいかれたい圧 [atama no ikaretai atsu]
Madness pressure in my head
位置の上から小便 [ichi no ue kara shouben]
Pissing from above their position
我らがいもと呼ぶ [warera ga imo to yobu]
We call on all the fools
LSD の真力 [LSD no machikara]
Pure strength of the acid
あ戯れ楽器を恐れ [a zare gakki wo osore]
I fear the instruments which I play
麻がまだこんな異能 [asa ga mada konnna inou]
Marijuana has mystic power
幸いだ殊に [saiwai da koto ni]
Feeling very happy now
See if you agree:
And here is the song played backwards:
One last thing: I saw Damo Suzuki perform live in Osaka last month, and the dude still kills it on stage. His band was made up of the local opening groups and he pulled them along on a 40-minute rhythmic pummeling the likes of which I may never see again. So if you see Damo touring around where you live, by all means go see him play.
Can on Amazon ... but you know you'd rather get it at your local record store. Tago MagoDMCA'd, but this one ain't hard to find
Here you have some sweet Can jams from (as the title might suggest) 1968. Their first album, Monster Movie, was released in 1969. This set of songs didn't see the light of day until 1981 -- hence the title. My favorite songs on here are probably “Nineteen Centry Man” (German rockers and heads certainly had one hell of an older generation to rail against), “Uphill,” and the slow-burning “Thief.” This recording definitely plays like a band still finding its groove, but that's no mark against it; Delay 1968 is a seriously valuable document of early Can. If you're like me and enjoy Malcom Mooney's staccato vocal style, you'll dig this no doubt.
I just finished watching this and figured some of you would dig it too. Starring Lydia Lunch, though you'll probably recognize a few other names in the credits if you're into any of the no wave shit from end-of -the-seventies NYC. Starts off a bit slow but it's worth the watch. There is some great imagery of the city in the gutter here. Being a no wave movie, you'd be foolish to expect much real plot, but the themes of anti-patriarchy and urban decay are clearly present. The soundtrack is superb as well. If numbers are important to you this has an 8.8 on IMDb (only five votes but hey). Runs approx. 45 min.
A few days ago the music world lost Poly Styrene, best known for her work with X-Ray Spex, one of the very best bands to come out of the initial wave of U.K. punk. Not a lot of bands sounded like the Spex, and Poly's opera-singer-punk wail remains a major contribution to the genre. Seriously, why weren't there more saxophones in punk music? You can (and probably did) read more eloquent pieces on her life and music elsewhere on the web, but grab these Peel Sessions and scream along, why don't you.
Been away from this space for a while, and am about to leave the country. When I get settled in posts shall continue. Til then, enjoy some pitch-perfect Russian punk from the end of the Cold War:
Alright, here's a nice little slab of glam-punk from the days when saxophones were more common in this type of music. Most notable for the song 'Jet Boy Jet Girl,' a song about the homosexual frustrations of the 15-year-old narrator. Based on the French tune 'Ça plane pour moi' but with new lyrics, 'Jet Boy' went on to be covered by a bunch of other bands. The Damned played it live pretty often. The rest of this album is some pretty damned good power-pop, with totally fun lyrics ('Artificial Insemination: Do the Sperm!') The title track shamelessly apes the Ramones' 'Hey ho let's go' (you call it a ripoff, I call it an homage), before playing for your ears some of the catchiest stuff you won't feel bad for liking. In my experience this album is fairly overlooked, so do yourself a favor and get it.
I haven't got much to say about this one. What you've got here is some pretty basic, solid good UK punk. Songs about war and The Man and whatever ("Dead Hero," "Fire Another Round," "Suspicion," you get the gist). This is a quick one, so just download it already.
Here's the most recent from everyone's favorite Dutch improv-anarcho-post-punk-world collaborators the Ex. They've been called the Dutch answer to Crass, but the Fall might be closer to the mark (but without the associated dickishness). Maybe This Heat? Most all comparisons fail though, as the Ex is a pretty unique group. Some bands just get better with age and these guys are one of them. This album (their 25th, I think) is a jam, front to back. The opener, "Maybe I Was the Pilot," is different from the version released as a single earlier in 2010, with the new horn section. Really, the dissonant trumpet adds a lot to the sound of this album; it's well-executed and improves the urgency of the record. Katherina Bornefeld's propulsive drumming has a singular rhythm which is an absolute joy to watch live (see video below). And there's plenty of electric guitar free-kout stuff, like in "Bicycle Illusion." "Keep On Walking" is a triumphant anthem, totally accessible and inspiring. I can only think positive things about this band and this album. Highly recommended.
Here's something I've been listening to on repeat. New band, new recording. Hearing this, I'm doubly pissed I couldn't make their first show last night. Anyway, this is some fantastic, fast punk with female vocals. Brilliant rage spanning six songs over seven minutes. Listen, you won't be disappointed.
Wire has made some wonderful music and certainly gained acclaim for it. But most of the praise goes to the 'holy trinity' of Wire albums (you know which those are). When the eighties started up the band called it quits, but reformed in 1985. Here's an interesting anecdote courtesy of Wikipedia:
[Upon reforming] Wire announced that they'd perform none of their older material, hiring The Ex-Lion Tamers, (a Wire cover band named after a song title from Pink Flag), as their opening act. The Ex-Lion Tamers played Wire's older material; Wire played their new material.
Fast-forwarding to the present, here is the latest album from Wire. I like it, especially the opener 'Please Take' ("fuck off out of my face; you take up too much space"), and the aptly titled 'Two Minutes,' which is the closest you'll get to any Pink Flag-ish stuff. The title track is a great. Makes me want to go to the redwoods or Sequoia or something. But really, I don't think there's a bad song on the album. If you're familiar with and/or dig A Bell Is a Cup ... Until It Is Struck (1988) and Send (2003), this is probably for you. If not, you should check out those records anyway because they are fantastic.
Somewhere in Virginia, the dude behind Nerve City sits and cranks out well-crafted pop/psych/country-folk tunes and then splashes them with reverb and other such guitar noise. It's home-recorded, and you can tell, but not in such a way that it's obnoxious; these songs speak for themselves. My favorites are probably 'Living Wage,' 'Junkyard,' and 'Mothers.' There's an uneasy sense of death about this record, and some songs, like 'Holy Ghost,' are just scary. I remember one time describing Nerve City to a friend as sounding like "a spaceman-cowboy playing guitar on the moon, in your TV." If that sounds at all appealing to you, then check out this record.
